Blue Bubble (Carver)

The following fictitious events take place in Reality D (Blue)

Chapter 1

Shit in Keshmar was boring, for all of eternity, until it wasn’t.

Somehow, Queen Rylena (aka Mom) had gotten herself entangled in Dells Drama. Jace Nygaard had come first: he’d been banned from the Dells after cursing some girl. Then, his best friend Niels Poulsen had gotten himself arrested because he didn’t believe there were powers that wanted to control his life and his girlfriend’s life.

Enter Carver: his job was to infiltrate the prison (done, thanks to Indigo, the treaties mastermind of the universe), room with Niels (also done, Carver had already taken bottom bunk), extricate him if desired (his exit-realm paperwork was already filed, if he said yes), or else protect him from prison.

Carver had a horrible understanding of what prison was. He’d studied it a bit (in some books and films) and had come to the conclusion that it was either an amazing place for a gay guy to house, or he was about to die. It was a good thing Niels was short (5’6, though he put 5’7 on his paperwork), it would help him hide if anything nefarious came about.

On the other hand, Carver also wondered if it would feel like one of those movies that goes nowhere: two people talking with event highlights such as we ate dinner, and we also had to take a group shower.

He tossed his blue-dyed hair (annoyingly the same color, but thankfully a different shade than Niels’). Carver had gone with a more aqua-teal shade, while Niels had dark and foreboding smoky blue.

Neither of them had dyed eyebrows.

It took forever for Niels to show up. Carver’s studies about prison did not reflect the endless boredom of sitting in a cell alone. Carver stood up. No, that won’t do. He sat back down, then laid down and crossed his ankles just as Niels came into view. In the end, it didn’t matter because the guard made Carver move into an approved position.

When Niels entered the cell, fanfare and rules and all, Carver sat up and planted his feet on the floor. “Hey.”

“Hej.” Niels said. 

For some reason, Carver hadn’t been prepared for the view. He’d expected the prison shit, the clothes and the bad food he’d yet to suffer through, but Niels? The guy looked like a hollowed out zombie. His eyes looked sunk into his face. Rememendants of mascara smeared across his eyelids and made the bags under them enhanced like the final fight scene in a romance movie.

He slumped into the cell and looked around.

“Carver,” Carver said, to interrupt the misery. He offered his hand.

Did people shake hands when they met their cell mates? Carver should have taken a course on prisons before doing this.

Niels had hesitated — leaving room to contemplate if he should drop his hand and punch Niels instead.

Except that felt rude.

Carver tilted his head, instead, and Niels caught sight of the hair.

He offered his hand. “Homicide. I’m Niels.”

Carver laughed. He wasn’t reading minds, so he hadn’t caught the part where Niels thought Carver was crime, but the response made everything click into place. Maybe his hair wasn’t as offensive as anticipated.

The next part was easy: Carver was in prison for kidnapping Jace. It was easy enough to convince the local authorities to accept that explanation.

“Kidnapping,” Carver said.

“Like…kidnapping?” Niels didn’t step away.

Yes and I’d love to consensually kidnap you.

Apparently unsavory people didn’t make Niels uncomfortable, like carvers and kidnappers.

“He was a legal adult,” Carver said. “Apparently kidnapping legal adults is still illegal.”

“No shit.” Little sparks of fire Niels tried to suppress ran across his fingertips.

Carver tried not to look at Niels’ hands and shrugged instead. “He got home after we went camping, told ghost stories, and got tattoos.”

The Gancanagh tattoo, so Jace could never curse a girl again. Niels was going to have to get one too. His magic had been suppressed but Jace’s woke up, and Niels’ could too.

“Then what’s the problem?” Niels asked.

Carver looked at him in the eyes, calm and cool. “He didn’t want to go camping.”

Niels chuckled. It was hot, his raspy tenor audible in the waves of amusement/worry.

“Fair,” Niels said. “Okay…try not to kidnap me?”

“It could be fun…” Carver flirted. He cleared his throat. “Wait. That sounded predatory.”

“I’m not really into tattoos anyway,” Niels said, his whole being tense. Carver caught the wave of a loud thought: Is he sane?

“What if you needed one because you were cursed by seals?” Carver said, because it was true — the Gancanagh curse was from the Selkies — but also he said it because it added to the insane vibe, which was the most amusing part of Carver’s day.

“That would really suck.”

Carver sat back down on his bed. His hand banged into the frame of the bunk. Not just that, but the springs tried to skewer him. He hated the feeling of springs pressing unevenly into his body. If he had to spend a single night in that bed he bet his wings would never be the same. Just because they were glamoured didn’t mean they’d stopped existing — he couldn’t suck them into his body either. They were very carefully folded and invisible-d against his body, underneath his clothes like they had earned a straight jacket for being flamboyant.

It was time for Carver to act normal, bond and comfort Niels or whatever.

“Who did you kill?” he asked.

“My girlfriend.”

“Why?” Carver asked, because it was proper. He knew Niels hadn’t done it.

“It was the only way,” Niels said dryly. “She was cursed by ducks.”

Carver laughed. He couldn’t wait to tell someone that Niels had called the Rhoganoi ducks. “So you’re not guilty?”

“I think that’s up to a jury at this point, and pretty damned subjective.” Niels sparked again, but he was quick to force it into submission. This time, his eyes were welled with tears.

As far as he knew, he would go down for the murder of Hattie. Carver mused at what he could do with the situation.

It was sort of assholey — to mess with Niels — but he vowed to not use his power for evil.

“So you did do it?” Carver asked.

Niels narrowed his eyes on Carver. “I think we’re in a situation where you could be spying on me for the cops. Informant person. And I shouldn’t talk about this without my lawyer present. Which. So. Yeah.”

Carver laid back on his bed. The springs were worse, even with his weight more evenly distributed.

“I’m not,” he told Niels. “But that is a valid concern.” He picked at a piece of cotton hanging from the mattress above him. “I’ve never been in a prison before. It’s exciting.”

He glanced barely toward Niels.

“Wait, how long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

“Me neither,” Niels said like he was on to something.

Carver laughed a little, mostly under his breath. “I saw you come in.”

Niels folded his arms across his chest. “Through the window?”

Carver laughed hard this time. His whole body ached with his uncatchable breaths.

He was undeniably adorable when he was upset. It wasn’t worth him being upset, but since they were in that situation, Carver was enjoying the bits of frazzle as Niels pieced together that something about Carver being there was off, but he had no idea what it was yet.

He was intelligent, was what it was. It was incredible to watch him dance on the fringes of logic and insanity and seek the answers he knew were there, waiting.

It wasn’t insanity at all; it was magic.

“I know it’s been awhile since you got here, but I was referring to that one time you walked into the cell under police escort and said ‘hej’.”

“You literally mean…you saw me come in.” Niels looked at the barred door. “Just now. When I saw you.”

“Yeah. You said you hadn’t been here long, and I was reminiscing on the time you arrived.”

“Ja but I could’ve been a transfer from a different prison, or…spent a lot of time at the Tombs before I came here. You didn’t know.”

Carver watched Niels weather his newer magics, the temptation to let them exhibit his tensions, fears, and confusion. He was trying to catch Carver in a lie, but Carver had the advantage of not lying.

“Didn’t you ask how long I’d been here?” Carver said.

“Yes.”

“So, here, might refer to this location, even this cell, as opposed to here as a soul’s embarkation to prison?”

Niels buried his head in his hands. His palms massaged his eyes like they needed sanding. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

Carver forced a laugh into the depth of his body, like a suppressed burp. “Neither can I, but we started off with the assumption that my name was a crime and here we are.”

Niels dropped his hands. “Your name?”

“My name is Carver. My dad’s basically a hippie.”

“How’d he react to you having a record?”

Carver felt his whole self glow in delight to answer this question, also honestly: “He incriminated me even though he was part of the camping trip.”

His dad had been behind aspects of it, even more than Carver. All Carver had done was try to entertain Jace and keep him safe.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Carver swung to sitting again, to focus more on Niels. He could sway the conversation toward confession, end the torment of Niels’ soul and begin the grieving process for the life he’d have to leave behind.

It was an unfair price.

“I’m only in for a little,” Carver said carefully.

“Can I make you a weird offer?”

Carver tried to lean back, but the wall was too far and he ended up in a slump, his knees sort of arched up like he’d been contorted in a rigormortis state. He cleared his throat and tried to make the stance look cool (it failed). “Prison weird or normal-people weird? I’ve heard there’s a difference.”

“Weirder than both.”

Carver had an opportunity to sit up: Intrigue. He pushed himself to sitting and placed his elbows onto his knees. “Okay?”

“In here…out there…I’ll give you a hundred bucks a day for avoidig sex, kisisng, relatonships, all of that shit. But you don’t get anything if you lie.”

Carver should have told Niels right then and there he knew about bonds.

He didn’t.

“You want to pay me to be single?” Carver asked instead.

“Not just single, like…not even a prostitute or anything.”

Carver suppressed another laugh at the idea of him as a prostitute.

He seemed to be lacking a filter around Niels, so he progressed their conversation with: “What about my hand?”

“Hand is fine.”

What were those things humans had? “Fleshlight?”

Niels’ face went blank. “Let me talk to my lawyer. I’ll get back to you on that one.”

“You have an incredibly understanding lawyer.”

“Yep. He’s fucking awesome. He’ll love this one.” Niels glanced around, but the only option for seating (other than beside Carver) was the floor or the toilet.

Niels opted for standing. “So…you want a hundred bucks a day?”

Carver couldn’t suppress his grin. The whole world was full of possibilities with Niels having a bond.

Carver had always wanted one, but none of the Alandrials or other Undines he’d met struck him as people he’d enjoy spending his life with.

Niels…

“Yeah. But first…100 bucks. Is that American dollars or a sex act?”

Niels blushed. “The point is, no sex acts.”

“You haven’t committed to a currency,” Carer pointed out.

Now he knew he was being mean, taunting the bond. It obviously pained Niels to feel so much attraction to Carver, to be in the position that a fellow prisoner (who had admitted guilt for their crime) had made him feel anything, let alone a male prisoner.

Still, for some asinine reason, Carver pressed on. “Bucks is so subjective. What about deer bucks? I could be agreeing to be kicked in exchange for celibacy.”

“100 USD. Daily.”

“Okay.” Carver stood. For the first time, Niels could see how much taller Carver was (half a foot taller). He offered his hand to Niels. “We should submit a formal agreement in writing with a maximum duration, however a handshake shall suffice while we’re here?”

“I’ll have my lawyer um…draw up the papers.”

“But shake on it for now.” An idea struck Carver — Some beings shook using spit or other fluids on their hands, to solidify the agreement or some nonsense. With the bond at play, Carver said very earnestly, “No bodily fluids, please.”

Niels stuck his (dry) hand out, his face was covered in a gorgeous scowly blush. If the concept of Carver didn’t seem to make him so uncomfortable, he would have pressed forward with something, however there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and this felt like one. If Niels were to ever wish to act on the bond, he would have to do so of his own choosing and on his own time.

Besides, they were in prison, and the concept of meeting someone with a bond delighted Carver.

They shook, and Niels definitively sparked. Carver sparked back, unable to help himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Must be my lucky day.”

In fact, a luck fairy had suggested Carver do this job.

Oh yeah, Carver was supposed to freak out about sparking.

He jumped back, probably ten seconds too late. “What was that!”

Niels rubbed his hand. “I got…electrocuted. And sometimes some of the electricity jumps out. In flames. It’s just a weird thing, you’ll get used to it.”

“You too?” Why are you such an asshole? Carver wondered to himself. “I thought I was the only one.”

Carver made some sparks.

Niels’ jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

“I was electrocuted too. I thought I was the only one.”

“That’s bullshit. Being electrocuted doesn’t do that.”

Carver tried to lean back again. He hadn’t learned the first time, so he fell/ This time, he smacked his head against the wall. As he rubbed it and groaned, he met Niels’ eyes. “How did you do that then?”

“It was a weird type of electrocution,” Niels defended. “Most people get electrocuted the normal way.”

“Yeah,” Carver said, adding to the lie-pie they were making. “That’s why I thought I was the only one. It’s rare.”

Niels was done. “Who the hell are you?”

“Carver.”

“Carver Alandrial?”

“Carver Floccinaucin.” He’d inherited the ridiculous last name from his mom, who had inherited it from her ex-husband (Nell’s) desire to make one up, because he couldn’t remember if they had one and what it would be.

“Huh.” Niels almost sat on the toilet, but he jumped away from it like he might die if he touched it. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a unique name.”

“Ja.”

“I can’t believe I met you though, with the same type of weird electrocution as me.”

“I can’t either,” Niels said darkly — he really couldn’t because he had magic and if Carver wasn’t magic what was he? That’s what Carver assumed was going through his mind, though. “Is this some kind of set up?”

Carver laid back on the satanic springs. He didn’t even believe in satan, but the sentiment had never felt more true. “For what?”

“Because I left? Is this like…extra banishment? If I’m in prison, I can’t go back?”

Carver shook his head. “No. I was considering kidnapping you, though. Your charges are bullshit. But the evidence they have? It isn’t.”

There was all sorts of magically forged evidence, enough to put Niels away for pre-meditated murder.

Niels ran his hands down his face. “Bullshit enough that someone planted it, and I don’t know anyone else with the magic and motivation.’

“The offer is on the table,” Carver said. “I’m a bullshit eliminator via kidnapping.”

Chapter 2

Niels looked at Carver, and at least seemed to take the offer seriously: Carver could free him from a fraudulent prison sentence.

“I told you I don’t like tattoos,” Niels said, like it was the best reason in the universe to not run away.

The problem with his argument was that the tattoo wasn’t for fun. Niels had an underlying Gancanagh curse and while it was suppressed, Jace had proved how easily it could be activated.

Niels needed the tattoo to prevent anything bad from happening to anyone. The curse would make girls want him (more than they already wanted his rockstar persona and guitar-strumming fingers), so much they might die if he said no. At least it would make him as crazed. The true issue was that love was something to be built. The Undine curse (bond that Niels currently had to Carver) was an attachment that at least allowed for beings to get to know each other. Carer had seen it break when things didn’t work as well as hoped

  It wasn’t irrevocable.

“I told you a seal may have cursed you, just like Jace, “ Carver tried to explain, but he knew it sounded mad.

“Seal agenda: swim, flop on beach, curse random people.”

Carver laughed. “You’re Jace’s nephew. You both have Gancanagh genetics, and if you were activated you’d get in trouble.”

Niels flamed. It was sexy and adorable. “Stay away from Jace,” he growled.

“I already let Jace go,” Carver reminded him, casually.

“You.” His flames turned to freezing ice crystals. Niels looked like a walking ice-man. “Holy shit.”

Carver tried to warm the room up, but Niels’ ice was stubborn. He opted for a raised eyebrow instead. Was this a battle of wills or adrenaline shock?

“I told you,” Carver stated. “He didn’t want to go camping.”

Carver hadn’t been the first to kidnap Jace from Babylon, but he’d assisted him once things had gone south — once he’d cursed Mallory Lavesque, Spence’s sister.

“Did you make him bond, too?” Niels asked, incredulously.

Carver grinned a tiny. “No, that one was all you, But I am happy to accept the payoff for as long as you need.”

“I don’t think my lawyer can slip me anything to fix that in here,” Niels said.

Carver wondered if he was warming up to the idea of escaping prison and leaving his human life behind. It was what the Rhoganoi wanted, although they were more fixated on Niels ending up with Talise than with Carver.

Niels started to glow again, with anger. “Why don’t you just leave, if you’re magic? And who pressed charges? Jace didn’t.”

Carver tried to make himself look soft and open, but he was certain he looked more like a pedofeliac giant asking for a hug

That was not his intention, so he straightened and said in earnest, “Because my people are uniquely interested in making sure you don’t get roomed with a real criminal.”

“Why?” Niels asked, like he didn’t believe it.

“Banished from the Dells does not mean abandoning you to the Rhonganoi. We know you didn’t do it, and we know you’re being framed. I’m here to protect you.”

“Well.” Niels paced the three steps toward the far wall. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Carver relaxed again. It was going to be a long night of pretending he was comfortable with the living arrangements. Then again… “If you ever need a hand for your bond, I have two,” he said, hoping to land some sort of reaction with his flirt.

“The thing is, I think it might be part of whatever framing magic happened,” Niels suggested.

“I think you’re afraid to be interested in me,” Carver said too honestly. He retreated his bold comment with, “Jace and I didn’t do anything together. If that was a hurdle you’re thinking about. Not a kiss nor a cuddle.” Carver wished he had a ball to pass between his hands. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know if we’ve shaken hands. And, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Fairies of all sorts tend bisexual. Some lean, some sit in the middle. It’s normal.”

“I’m human,” Niels countered. “And my far…ran into some trouble being not straight.” Little sparks of angst rippled off of Niels.

Carver looked at him, at this new found vulnerability Niels shared. “Like?”

“Like he caught something fatal.”

Easy enough. “I don’t have anything fatal.”

“Ja.” Niels tuckd his hands where pockets should have been. They fell to his sides, unsatisfied.

“Bond aside,” Carver said. “Welcome. You’re safe in here with me I can read minds — no I haven’t been reading yours — and I will help us avoid trouble.”

“What happens if I take you up on being kidnapped? That means I can’t come back, right?”

It was interesting, watching the stages of grief pass through Niels.

“You have to leave this realm behind, yes,” Carver said.

“What about that fortune teller? What does he say?”

“Weston or Bentley?” They had different opinions.

“Bentley,” Niels said. “Surferboy.”

Carver laughed.

“He says you’ll be convicted if you stay,” Carver admitted. “They have strong evidence against you, fabricated but convincing.”

“So I’m fucked.” Niels slid down against the wall.

Carver walked over and offered his hand to Niels.

Fucked as in, his life was over, yes. Fucked as in, his life ruined? He still had life energy, the ability to rebuild.

“Can…” Niels’ eyes filled with tears. He looked around the cell.

“Hey.” Carver crouched down to his knees. “This isn’t sex.” He sat beside Niels, against the wall. He would definitively need to shower under scalding water after whatever was on the wall they were touching. He wrapped his arm around Niels’ back, though. “I’m also here to be here for you.”

“Did Bentley send you?” Niels asked, his eyes full of tears. He leaned against Carver, into his arm.

“Weston, his grandfather,” Carver said.

Niels sighed. “What about in like…a decade or two?” He bargained. “Can I come back then? Or if I got the dye out of my hair?”

Carver nodded. Even sooner, with a strong glamour. “We’ll work on it, and possibly work behind the scenes to erase all of this mess. Make it a crazy made up story about you or flip it like…sponsor someone who was innocent being released. Second chances? We can arrange that shit. I can’t, but there are ones that can.”

“Thank you.” Niels stood, apart from Carver. “You…can kidnap me. Whenever.”

Carver stood, took his hand softly, and then transported them to his treehouse in Keshmar (where Niels hadn’t been banished from).

“No one here wanted this for you,” Carver told Niels. “They don’t hate you that much. It’s messy to have to bring you back to Elesara, but you’re allowed, safe, and protected. Okay? And Jace had an idea for a lost last album you can release in a year.”

“Ja?” Niels had tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Ja,” Carver said. He pulled Niels into a proper hug.

“What about you?” Niels whispered. “Who are you?”

“I’m a Pixie.” Carver stepped away from him and took off the prison shirt. He let his wings out, in full view. They were similar tones to his wings: soft aqua/teal, hints of pink. “I’m Rylena and Gannon’s son. Rylena used to be married to Nell, whom I believe you have met. That’s where the last name Floccinaucin comes from.”

“Ja, but who are you,” Niels asked.

Carver narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “I’m a Pixie, and my name is Carver Floccinaucin. I’m a prince of the Pixies.”

“And when you’re alone in your room, you sit there thinking about what a prince you are?” Niels asked.

“Oh…” Carver grinned. “We’re bonding?”